Fanfare for the Common Man: Thrilled by ‘Bill’

Jammed shoulder-to-shoulder, hundreds forfeited sleeping in and Sunday brunch to wait at Santa Monica College for the President they call “Bill,” appearing for the first time in California since he took office.

Anastasia Olszewski, a 52-year-old surgical nurse, hasn’t given a fig for politics for the last 18 years. Then came Bill Clinton.

“If I could just catch a glimpse of him,” the Santa Monica resident said Sunday, craning her neck outside an area roped off by police. “Politics is a big conglomeration (in which) little people like us never have anything to say, but somehow we have a President who talks about our problems.”

But with Hollywood only a little more than a stone’s throw away, the crowd also included a who’s who of show business and political celebrities, and wanna-bes. For them all, this was a chance to grab on to history, to see in the flesh--and maybe even shake the hand of--the President.

Mayor Tom Bradley zipped in through a back door at 1:25 p.m., only minutes before Clinton stepped up to the podium in a gymnasium bedecked in pink and teal banners. Seconds later, entertainer Bill Cosby, smiling bashfully, sliced through the crowd.

Clinton surveyed the throngs and got a laugh when he introduced Cosby, “who makes me the second most-famous person in the room.”

For Clinton, this was an easy crowd. Though he spoke of programs that, in fact, will mean belt-tightening, it was as if he were promising no taxes. The audience interrupted his speech with applause more than 30 times.

Immediately after President Clinton’s 35-minute address, Barbara Patrick tumbled out of her seat and lunged down the steps to get closer to where she figured the President might greet the crowd. She was in luck: Clinton shook her hand.

“It’s thrilling,” gushed the 32-year-old actress. “He said ‘Hi.’ ”

True to form, Clinton did not leave swiftly. Instead he lingered with the crowd that pressed forward to meet him. Throngs began to chant: “Bill! Bill! Bill!” And if Clinton had any thought of an early departure, their calls to him--like a siren song--erased the notion.

A few tried to touch the youthful President. Some held up their cameras. Others waved their business cards. And some parents held small children in the air over their heads until their arms began to tremble with the strain.

Kate Volta, who translated Clinton’s speech into sign language, hit the jackpot. Clinton kissed her hand. Asked if she would ever wash that hand again, Volta laughed, explaining: “In my line of work, you’ve got to keep your hands clean.”

Some, like Suzanne Lewis, considered themselves a sort of Clinton groupie. As a volunteer for his campaign, she had seen him twice before. But this time, she was able to have a few words with him. Earlier in the day, she’d wondered about this very moment. If she had the chance to speak to the President, what would she say?

Talk about the weather, she decided. Weather is always safe. So when Clinton approached, she shook his hand and told him: “Mr. President, thank you very much for bringing the sunshine.”

Even here, where celebrity spottings are common, many seemed totally star-struck. They had already begun to plan how they would retell the tale of seeing the President.

“I probably would never be in the same room as the President again,” sighed Hattie Agard, a registered nurse whose daughter attends the community college. Agard already had called her parents to let them know how she was planning to spend her Sunday.

Many attended Clinton’s address because they were sure he would spell out his economic blueprint and make them understand why sacrifice is so necessary. Cheryl Sindel, 31, hoped that she would get some answers.

“Some of the proposed cuts are going to hit me hard, “ said Sindel, a social worker at a Veterans Administration hospital. “I’m not so happy.”

But Sindel, who voted for Clinton, was prepared to hear him out. And as she waited in line to enter the gymnasium, she bypassed the more standard paraphernalia in support of the Clinton Administration. Instead, she purchased a button that referred to Clinton’s admission that he had once tried marijuana. It read: “Inhale to the Chief.”

Pinning it to her shirt, Sindel tried to explain the emotions washing over her.

“Reagan and the other presidents were inaccessible,” Sindel said. “This is the opportunity to see our President.”